Apple Picking
by bratmin
Summary: prompt: Thomas confessing to Minho what happened with Newt


"I shot him."

Minho's responding noise of confusion shot panic through Thomas' body. He swallowed the fear that was suddenly trying to choke him and shook his head.

"N-nothing," he muttered, walking off towards the village with his basket of apples. He had no idea why he's said it. He'd promised he would never tell Minho what he'd done to Newt, and yet it had come out of his mouth like it was nothing. He was shucked in the head.

He heard Minho following after him.

"Hey, wait up. What did you say? You shot who?"

Thomas shook his head and sped up. He didn't want to talk about this. He wasn't ready for this.

He wasn't ready to lose Minho too.

Thomas stopped when Minho caught his shoulder, turning him around and taking the basket of apples from his arms. He watched Minho place the basket on the ground before his big hands were gripping Thomas' biceps.

"Dude, you gotta talk to me. You look like you've seen a ghost. Come on, Tommy, please?"

Thomas felt his body tense up instantly, the memories flooding back to him.

"Don't…" He had to suck in a deep breath before he could continue. "Don't call me that."

Minho seemed to sense what he'd done wrong, putting his hands up in surrender. "Sorry… You trust me, right?"

Thomas met Minho's eyes and slowly nodded. He did trust Minho. Probably more than anyone in the world.

Minho nodded and smiled. "Then you know that you can tell me anything, right?"

Thomas' eyes teared up. The tears never fell but he could feel them there. He nodded slowly. He wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe that he could tell Minho what he'd done and the man would still be there, still be his best friend. His lifeline to sanity.

"I… I did something, Minho," he started, his voice small. Minho had to lean in to hear, their foreheads almost touching.

"I know it was what he wanted but… I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself. When I left Right Arm to hand myself over to WICKED… I saw Newt. He was in Denver with the Cranks who'd broken out of the Crank Palace. He looked at me. Shuck, he stared at me. I went over to him…"

Thomas had to stop. He could feel himself starting to hyperventilate. He could feel the tension radiating off of Minho's body. He looked up and saw the realization in Minho's eyes. He felt him move away, saw him shake his head. Thomas reached out, his fingers brushing over Minho's hand. He almost sobbed when Minho pulled away.

"He begged me to, Minho," Thomas said, his voice breaking. "That time on the berg, when he wanted to talk to just me, he gave me a note. It said 'Kill me. If you've ever been my friend, kill me.' Minho, he said he hated me. Told me that I should have killed him in the Crank Palace. I didn't know what to do. He didn't want to go insane. He… he told me he's been wanting to die since he tried to kill himself in the maze."

Words were pouring out of Thomas' mouth, trying to save the crumbling relationship in front of him. Minho had a right to know what he'd done to Newt, but it was crushing Thomas with every passing second.

"I… I never would have done it," Minho said, his voice hard.

Thomas nodded slowly, looking down as he shook, hands clenched at his sides.

"And that's why he asked you, isn't it?"

Thomas looked up, frowning at the tone in Minho's voice. His eyes widened when he saw tears on his face.

"He knew I would never do it. I was the one who found him in the maze… The day he got his limp. I had no idea you knew about that… I… begged him to keep on living. Shuck, he was doing it for me, wasn't he? But this was a reason for him to escape."

Minho's face screwed up and he squatted down, rubbing at his face as he groaned.

"That stupid shank… I can't believe he asked you to do that…"

Thomas knelt down in front of Minho, tentatively putting his hand on Minho's wrist. Minho looked up at him, his eyes filled with swirling emotions. Thomas forced a small smile. A couple seconds later, Minho returned it.

"I like to believe he loved us…" Minho whispered softly. "That he asked you because he knew you loved him enough to do it… That he didn't ask me because he knew I loved him far too much to do it. Shit… What a shucked up world we live in."

Thomas shook his head slowly. "Lived in… We're in paradise now. All we can do is move on, right? It's what Newt would have wanted."

Minho nodded slowly and ruffled Thomas' hair. "Yeah. Come on, lets get these apples back to camp."

Thomas stood and took Minho's hand, helping him up. They smiled at each other as they each grabbed a handle of the basket, walking back towards the small village with it swinging between them.


End file.
